


Side Story:M: Idolatry

by VioletOnigirl



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Rumors, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25048777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletOnigirl/pseuds/VioletOnigirl
Summary: Tying together some of the chat messages with one one narrative. Potential spoilers. Some one jumps to conclusions, some one gets excited, and some one gets petted.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 27





	Side Story:M: Idolatry

I am planning a set of super short shots based on karaoke songs I think fit the guys. Billy Idol’s Cradle of Love came on while I was reading the Demon at my Door chat. I mean c’mon. These guys have a couple millenia on MC. Mammon is a perfect fit. Just look at Billy's Rolling Stone cover!? Tell me our favorite fool wouldn't look hotter than a supernova in nothing but a few strategic belts and a ton of gold chains. And that sneer....meep *fans face* Ties together several messages about Mammoron's modeling and the rumours about you and Satan. 

  
  


Screaming guitars and thumping bass pump from your D3 as you sweep up in the classroom. The job was almost done so you were having a bit of fun using the handle as both mic and guitar neck. You had been right in the middle of a serious air guitar power cord when you felt eyes on your back. Not one to care if you got caught acting the fool you kept going till the end of the chorus. At the top of the next verse you pivot to the door with a feral grin.

"You talk, talk, talk to me, Your eyes touch me physically." You drag one hand down your throat to your chest as the other points at a stunned Satan. You curl your fingers in a 'come here' gesture and wink. "Stay with me, we'll take the night. As passion takes another bite. I don't wanna tame your animal style, You won't be caged from the call of wild. "

Satan chuckled at your antics and continues to watch the show as he takes a seat. The Student Council meeting was finally over with so he head elected to find you for the walk home. He never quite knew what to expect from you. The few times he has caught you alone in the music room have been...educational. Your taste was eclectic at best. One night it had been old torch songs and ballads. Another time, summoned by your anger, nothing but what you had called f.u. or break up music. Now it seemed the 80's were in review.

You finish the song and grab a seat. " Meeting is over, I take it. Come to fetch the human home?" With a cheeky grin you poke the demon with the broom handle.

"You're as bad as Lucifer. And yes, time to head home. Glam rock review today, or just a general nostalgia trip?" He frowned and batted the wood away. Really, you could be such a child.

"Hmm, sorta. Can't be a nostalgia trip unless you count my parents listening to this when I was younger. Totally not my era. More of a classic rock retrospective than anything. The breakdown of eras changed about 5 years ago I think." You chew on your bottom lip for a minute. Then stand up to start putting things away.

"So, I think anything 2000's is considered modern and new hits, 90's is doing its own thing, 70's and 80's are classics, 50's-60's is retro, and back past that is vintage. So, now they are considered Classic Rock. Same with Ratt, Cru, and KISS." You are alone with Satan in one of the empty classrooms and as usual the temptation to talk about anything other than classwork has snared you both. You had been caught out today singing while you clean. Satan loved the enthusiastic if impromptu performances of your favorites. Today it had been 80's rockers finishing with Scandal's The Warrior.

"But, Satan, we really shouldn't be doing this here. Let's head home so we can really enjoy ourselves, hmm?" You put the broom back in the cupboard. There is a sound by the door so you look over your shoulder. All you see are the eyes sweeping over your body. Pink stains your cheeks when that gaze, darkened to jade by heat locks with yours.

"I think that is a lovely idea. You know how  _ arousing  _ I find our conversations. Tell me, how familiar are you with Alice Cooper?"

***In the Hall***

Luke was flustered. Well, when wasn't he these days. That sweet human was forced to live with the worst of demons for a year! Having to endure their vulgar, cruel, and manipulative behaviour. Poor dear thing. Simeon said he was over thinking it and he might be right. You had obviously been managing alright. Your shine had not dimmed. If anything it had brightened. Which had shocked both angels when they heard you had already made a pact before a week was out.

The cherub stops and takes a deep breath. If he would just calm down he wouldn't be making mistakes like leaving his printouts behind in the classroom. He would just retrieve it and head back to Purgatory Hall. Maybe Luke would bake a cake and invite his new human friend to tea. Oh! He could also teach them a Celestial Realm recipe. His smile was firmly in place as he approached his destination.

He could just make out the sound of people in the room. Why was anyone still here? Then it dawned on him. The instructor had asked for someone to stay behind and tidy up. Naturally it had been the ever eager exchange student who had volunteered. This was a perfect chance to ask about tea time! He was close enough now to pick up a second voice, a male voice. 

Ugh. Most likely a demon. They flocked about like... like vultures. Luke moved a bit more quickly to get to the door. He had been right about who was in the room. That voice was unmistakable to him and he could just start to make out words.

"...and kiss." Luke's face went red and he tripped over his own feet. Kissing?! Why were they talking about kissing? He hears a door close and then the conversation continues. "But, Satan, we really shouldn't be doing this here. Let's head home so we can really enjoy ourselves, hmm?"

Satan?! They hadn't been talking about kissing with Satan. They had been doing it. Right there in the classroom. And now, of all the accursed things, they were trying to get the demon alone for more. It was too much for his heart. Luke turned and ran all the way back to Purgatory entirely forgetting what he had been there for.

******

A few moments later the two of you walk out into the hallway. Chattering amicably about 80's hair and metal bands. You were not a die hard for any of the bands but there were a couple of solo acts you were gone on. You had segued into solo artists by the time you reached HoL's gates.

"Hands down it has to be Billy Idol. Don't get me wrong Bowie will always be King but if it came down to it. Billy is the one I could listen to forever. The ultimate bad boy with a divine voice and piercing eyes. I don't think I can pick a favorite song. Not for him or David Bowie." Well, it would be fair to say you had a type. Blond, bad ass, and soulful. Rather like the demon leading you into the entry hall.

"Alright. Current top three for Mr. Idol just off the top of your head." Satan had learned to enjoy these long rambling discussions. You were so animated when you were on a subject you had passion for, it was enthralling. He just kept prompting you and really it took very little. Now that you had gotten more comfortable with the brothers you had become quite chatty. 

"Ooh. Let's say Don't You Forget About Me, Dancing with Myself, and...oh." An almost predatory grin pulls at your lips. You slant your gaze towards the demon's face to see how he reacts. "Flesh For Fantasy the Below the Belt remix."

Success! Those sharp cheekbones were dusted with pink. He was just so darn adorable. For all the centuries of life, all the experience, and, in his case for sure, all that knowledge they had acquired your boys got flustered by you. Satan and Levi were by far the easiest marks for love-love attacks. Time for phase two. You link your arm with Satan's and smile sweetly up at him.

"What about you? Any melodies running through your head lately?"

Damn. Damn, but how do they do it? Every time you touch him his heart races. Satan doesn't understand how his brothers handle you. That smile. Those gentle hands. He tries to swallow but his throat is suddenly tight. What had you asked him? Right, music. He enjoyed it, of course, but he was not much of a dancer or singer for that matter. Of late he had been exposed more to what his sweet kitten preferred. Damn. When had he started to think of you like that?

"I suppose that song you were singing the other morning. The one you were dancing to in the kitchen with the broom." He was on to you. This little game you had taken to playing, trying to make the brothers lose their minds. Taking their arm or hand when walking, bringing their preferred snacks to the common room, all those too kind little actions. Satan knew it was already too late. All of them, even the mighty Lucifer, were lost to you and you had no clue. Well, you probably couldn't help but notice Mammon's idiotic, love struck behaviour since the scumbag rarely left your side. Thankfully the feelings they all had for you seemed to go both ways. "The Dean Martin one."

You blush hard as you recall the morning in question. Of course, Satan would love the Rat Pack. You had been fixing breakfast on the weekend and had gone full June Cleaver. Hair curled and pinned up, pretty little vintage style dress, pearls, makeup and sweet lacey white apron. It had put you in the mood for something with some swing. Ain't That A Kick had come on just as you popped the trays of cinnamon rolls in the oven. You had changed the pronouns and danced with the broom as you cleaned up the bits that had fallen to the floor. Your little dance number during the bridge had been enthusiastic and full of spins. Which was only fitting as you picked up again with, "My head keeps spinning, I go to sleep, I keep grinning..." 

It had been the sudden tug of a hand in yours that nearly made you falter. Satan had been watching from the dining room door. He couldn't resist, even though he wasn't much of a dancer he knew enough to be better than the broom. As he pulled you in close he smiled, a true smile that reached his eyes, and nodded to encourage you to keep going as he swung you around the kitchen island. 

You laugh and pat the firm bicep you currently have custody of. "Why am I not surprised? I should introduce you to PMJ. " You giggle at the look on Satan's face, confusion and curiosity making the demon look horribly young. "Post Modern Jukebox. They are a group of musicians that take newer songs and rearrange them to be more like songs from the 20's to the 50's. It might make modern music a bit more palatable for a couple of you."

"Hey! Where ya been? N-not that I was waiting for ya or anything." Mammon comes barreling down the stairs toward you. That sneaky bastard, Satan. Stealing away with and holding on to  _ his  _ human. "Get yer paws offa' my human. Waddaya think yer doin' letting him get all cozy like that? He'll start gettin' the idea that you like him."

You sigh softly and give Satan's arm a soft squeeze before pulling away. Mammon might be the Avatar of Greed but his jealous streak could nearly rival Levi's when it came to your attention. The bronze skinned demon pulled you against his side and tilted your chin up. His eyes had gone the color of the sky just after sunset, blue so dark it was nearly black. "You were supposed to help me study, precious. You forget or somethin'? Let's go already."

"Hmph. They don't belong to you." Satan scowled at his older brother. Clingy asshole. Just because the human had managed, albeit with help from Leviathan, to make a pact with him of all demons first the second born seemed to feel entitled to a greater share of your attention. "I have reading to do."

Satan pushed passed the two of you deliberately knocking into Mammon's shoulder. "Jackass." "Scumbag."

You shake your head and leave it alone. No good would come of saying anything. You had already tried. The secret truth of the matter was that each brother played a role and had played it so well for so long that they did it out of reflex. You already had a separate section of notes on the behaviour. It helped when dealing with them one on one. You poke Mammon in the chest.

“Seriously? Studying is the best excuse you could come up with?” 

“What? Am I supposed to say that I got ya helping me get new ideas to make money? Nah. Wouldn’t fly. “ He drops an arm around your shoulders and leads you to his room. “C’mon buddy. Ya can’t leave me hangin’. Not after that shoot I got you on the other week. That perfume gig.”

You remember it pretty well. How could you forget. Mammon had sent you a text asking if you would want to help out on one of his shoots. It had turned out to be a pretty cool experience. They had been all set to use this one model when she had fallen ill. The ad was for a new perfume laced with pheromones, part of the Temptation line. Once you learned that the name of this new scent was Mortal Temptation you off handedly suggested that it would be a good flip to have the mortal tempting the demon instead of the other way around. It had been weird to have people hovering around you and moving your hair or your arm.

“What about it? I don’t know anything about modeling. I only know what I know about photography because of my Mom’s hobby. Why don’t we pull up some human magazine covers to look at?” You had been itching to read the latest Rock Gods anyway. 

“See? This is why I need you around. My lucky charm.”

“No cutting off my foot.”

“Eeww.”

Hours later you roll off of Mammon’s bed with a groan after checking your phone. “Oh, for the love of…” Solomon had just asked if you had kissed Satan. Not that it was anyone else’s business but you had. Just not very recently. Of course it had been Luke eavesdropping and not actually understanding what he had heard. 

“What’s up?” Mammon looks up from his phone where you had set him up with the Rock Gods archive. He hadn’t really been looking at it. The demon had been watching you. He was always watching you. Being a covert voyeur had been the only way he got to see you unguarded. It had all started when you caught him watching you in the mirror. After that he couldn’t get enough of those moments. It was why he still kept bursting into your room. Or staying in your room when you went to take a bath. You had left the door cracked once. He had seen everything and still wanted more.

“Nothing. Just stupid rumours. I’ll deal with it later. Find anything good?” You sit next to him and lean your head on his shoulder to see better. Your breath hitches as you see which month he is on. “Billy…”’

Mammon flicks your forehead. “What? You like this guy or somethin’?” He frowns down at the image of a white blond guy sneering at the camera. The guy wasn’t  _ that _ good looking. Maybe it was just the fact that he was hardly wearing anything. A bit of leather and a bunch of necklaces, big whoop. Mammon could easily do better.

“Um,” you blush hard and stand up. “Yeah. So, that is Billy Idol and that was the God of Bad Boys I prayed to every night in high school for one of my own. I had a copy of that exact cover on my binder every year.” 

Nope it was too much. You were not talking to Mammon about that stupid crush not after having to deal with Satan and Solomon. Besides, Asmodeus probably had your copy of Devil Style and you should get it back. You had taken to cutting out Mammon’s pictures and keeping them in a notebook. Stashed up in the tree behind your headboard. If he ever found it you would not hear the end of it. “I’m going to go see what’s up with dinner and see if Asmo is done with the new Devil Style. Later, primo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Later.” What was that all about? You had jumped and run like… well, like you were being chased by a demon. Bah, crazy human. Although if you liked the way this rocker looked, maybe…

**3 WEEKS LATER**

“MC!! Look what just came!” Asmodeus ambushes you in the hallway after school and shoves a magazine into your hands. You look down at the cover and bounce up and down, “He did it!! Mammon made the cover. Crap. I need to buy two.” 

“Whyever would you do that, cutie? It’s just Mammon. You can look at his mug any time you want. Though why you should want to when you can have moi for your viewing pleasure…” He brushes the back of his hand against your cheek. “And more if you ask nicely.”

“Belle Ami, you know that gazing fondly at your perfection can only be done for so long. You are too in demand. Besides, Mammon only makes faces like  _ that, _ ” you point at the cover where sapphire eyes and cocky grin are just daring you to touch, “for the camera. So, I need one copy to read and one to...umm..cut up.”

“Oh!” The Avatar of Lust begins laughing. You scowl and tap your foot. He wipes away a tear and pats your head. “You are SOO cute! That is such a human thing. Collecting graven images of your idols. Promise me a spa day this weekend so we can try the new Underworld line and I will pick it up for you.” 

“Ok. Deal.”

Back at home you try to focus on your school work but you just can’t. You want so badly to flip through the magazine. If Mammon is on the cover then there would be at least five or more pages devoted to just him. And just maybe the ad with the two of you would be out as well. You give up on trying to study and instead opt to go make a pot of tea and grab a snack. At the dining room door you run into Asmo. He presents your copies with a flourish and a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“Oh, you are just too good to me, Bijou. I’m gon-” You snap your mouth shut as Mammon walks in from the kitchen. You lock eyes with him for just a moment before you panic and bolt for your room. Behind you the sound of Asmodeus’ laughter is ringing out mixed with shouts from Mammon. You run full out till you reach your room and slam the door. After tossing the magazines on the bed you stuff a chair under the door knob. It would hardly stop a determined demon but at least it would slow him down a little. 

* _ ping...ping...ping…*  _ Oh, no. Death by a thousand texts.

M:HEY!

M:Why ya runnin’, BUDDY?!

Ugh. Of course he wants to know what you ran for and what was in your hot little hands. So you lied, and he totally called you on it. Darn that infernaly good vision of his too. You send back the whistling demoji. You bury your face in your hands. No good. You know he won’t let it go. He’ll want to watch your face as you read it. You could just die…

M: Don’t act like ya don’t know what I’m talkin’ about.

M: Speaking of...

M: Wouldn’t it be funny if you saw me on the cover and bought it because of that?

M: I might even be able to force out a smile, if that were the case.

M: But who cares about seeing my face? I want to see yours while you’re reading that magazine

M: Ya know, just a peek!

M: So, help me by opening the door, just a little?

You can just imagine the face he is making. Not fair, primo. You know what will happen afterward. He’ll want to come in and you will never get back to studying. On the other hand if you don’t give in he will be even more annoying. You tap out a quick message 

: hold on a sec

The reply is almost instant.

M:But I caaaaaaaan’t!

M: Open the door and let me see already

So very embarrassing. At the same time it is kind of arousing. Knowing that he is watching you and getting just as excited. You had caught him once peeping on you in the bath. Instead of getting mad you just went with it. You would have taken longer any way just to make him wait. That time though you go through your whole routine very slowly and deliberately. Neither of you had said anything about it nor had you tried to bait him on purpose but now here he was asking for it.

You take a steadying breath and walk over to the door. You crack it open just enough to look outside. There he is sitting against the opposite wall with his head on his knees. You know he won’t look up until he can hear you going back to your bed. It felt a little dirty even though what you were doing was anything but. You try to forget about him and ignore the sounds over by the door. You grab a pillow and put it at the foot of the bed facing the door. After laying down on your stomach you start to flip slowly through the glossy pages.

“Oooh, that is a pretty hat. I would not look good in it at all.” You hmm and hum until you reach the center spread. Your mouth goes dry for a second. There is no way… He didn’t… He did. Right there on the first page of the spread in full color, nearly naked, demonic glory was your demon. Fingerless white leather gloves, very carefully layered belts slung over lean hips, chains of gold in every size dripping over his chest… You let out a little scream and bury your face in your pillow.

Outside the door Mammon watches you hungrily. You must like it… Your face had gone bright pink, eyes wide, and that wicked tongue had slid over your lips. He growls low in his chest as your face disappears into the pillow. That was not how he wanted to make you scream but for now he would take it. Mammon watches for the next half hour, noting every sigh, every flick of your eyes toward the door. He can’t take it anymore. He has a growing problem and the hallway is so not the place to handle it. Finally he stands and knocks on the door.

“Hey. Ya done in there yet?” As if he didn’t know. He pushes open the door without waiting for a reply and then kicks it shut behind him. You watch him from under your lashes as he stalks toward you. Yeah, those close fitting jeans are a blessing and a curse right now. Mammon sits on the floor and leans back against the bed. “Well? Waddaya think?”

You reach over and run your fingers through his hair. He groans, “Yeah...Right there. That’s the spot.” It wasn’t, not exactly. No, he wanted those hands elsewhere but he would take anything he could get. You do it again but press your nails more firmly into his scalp. “Mmm. You better not do this for anyone else.”

“Just you, M.”

“That’s my human. Ah!” He shivers as you brush your hand over where his horns would be. "I- uh. I-I'm getting kinda excited."

"Should I stop?" You start to pull your hand back only for him to clap his own down on top of it.

"Never." 


End file.
